Meg and Guy
by Leah Day
Summary: An Au Guy and Meg ditty set during ep 9 of series three. Written in Australian and UK spelling aand grammar.
1. Part 1

_**Meg & Guy**_

_**By Leah Day**_

_**Summary**_

A Meg/Guy AU take on ep 9 of series 3. Contains femme slash references, non-femme slash sexual references. It also contains a scene where a character's religious beliefs are questioned. I add this warning should any reader find that particular part offensive.

Just a warning to Guy fans, this fic is quite sympathetic towards Isabella, therefore you may not like it but please feel free to read anyway.

_**Disclaimer**_

If I were to own Robin Hood many a thing would change. I do not own Robin Hood therefore many a thing cannot change. Due to the fact that Holliday is only two years younger then Lucy Griffiths, I thought it fine to make this a M rated fic and am guessing Meg was older then she looked therefore she will be 21 years of age in this fic despite the fact that her behaviour in the ep suggested otherwise.

_**Nottingham Castle Dungeons**_

It was lonely without her. Guy of Gisborne had never realised how alone he was till Meg had come into the dungeons, roaring with rage, struggling against the iron grip of the guards like a wild animal.

How he wished she had stayed.

Jesu ... He was so very alone.

_**Lady Meg's chambers.**_

"It is slightly bigger then you are, but I'm afraid this will have to do," Isabella, lady sheriff of Nottingham, told her companion, handing her a cream woollen shift and red velvet gown.

Meg took the shift and dress, smiling faintly at the older woman.

"Thank you, Isabella," she told her. "I am very grateful."

Isabella reached out, taking the girls free hand in her own, squeezing it tenderly.

"It is I who am grateful, Meg. When Thornton had me digging for that treasure he swore to me that he would kill you if there were none to be found. I was so scared for you!"

"No need! No need!" Meg insisted fervently. "I am alive and well."

Isabella gave another tender smile.

"Yes you are. And no longer will Thornton or my wretch of a brother have hold over us ever again." She squeezed Meg's hand once more then gracefully rose to her feet. "When you've finished here, will you not come to my quarters?" She invited. "I will be writing to the prince," her blue eyes sparkled. "I daresay he shall be very happy with this horde!"

"I will," Meg promised.

OoO

As soon as Isabella was no longer in sight, Meg called for a servant girl, telling her that she was famished, thus needing food and sour ale.

"But milady, I thought you had already dined with lady sheriff," the girl questioned.

"I did, but I'm still hungry. Have food and a bath brought to my chambers, please."

The servant wench pursed her lips.

Meg arched an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?"

"No milady."

Bowing respectfully, the wench left Meg alone.

_**The Dungeons**_

Guy had been sitting before the bars of his cell, staring with little interest at the comings and goings of prisoners, servants, priests, and guards when Meg entered carrying a tray of food and ale.

Normally he would have roared at her to leave him be but he was ever so grateful to see her he smiled faintly and bid her to come to him.

Gisborne noted that the girl had washed and changed her lavender and violet dress of earlier into a very lovely, though much too big for her, velvet red dress. Her long brown mane had also been attended to as well, pulled into a simple, yet tasteful, bun.

"Here," Meg said, setting the tray and tankard onto the floor, crouching before him. "It's better then maggoty bread."

Gisborne smiled gently.

"Thank you …. But I am not hungry."

And he wasn't. He had lost his appetite for food a long time ago.

"You must," Meg whispered. "For me."

Hot little beads of water ran down her white cheeks and she bit down hard on her lip, determined not to become a weeping mess.

When biting did not work, Meg lowered her head, breathing in deeply. Her grip on the cell bars tightened so greatly her hands ached.

"There's nothing I can do to save you. And I haven't down enough," she choked out at last.

Gisborne's hands covered her own, gently easing her grip on the bars.

"Look at me," he told her softly.

She shook her head.

"I can't."

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, the fair maiden raised her head.

"I'm looking at you," she croaked miserably. "What now?"

"You've done more then enough," Gisborne told her softly. "You made me think. Think about a person I once knew. She saw goodness in me when others believed there was none."

"What happened to her?" Meg asked although already dreading the answer.

Gisborne gave a shuddering breath.

"I destroyed her," he revealed, then adding with his voice cracking slightly. "I destroyed everything."

Meg felt a chill go down her spine.

She ignored it and reached out to touch Guy's cheek.

Gisborne trembled beneath the contact but did not dare pull away. He let her remain for a few moments then began to take the food into his cell.

"You need to go," he told her with much regret in his voice. "I will not have Isabella find you here."

Knowing it was for the best; Meg forced a smile.

"Take this," she said. "It's not food."

She took his hand, pressing something hard and smooth into it.

Gisborne stared down at the object in his palm.

Her ruby and gold ring.

"For the ferryman?" he asked, giving her a look of sheer amazement.

She cared so much.

The maiden shook her head.

"For you."

Gathering her skirt, she rose to her feet.

"Farewell," she said meekly.

Guy smirked.

"Goodbye," he replied.

And then she was gone.

What the man and girl did not know was that soon, quite soon, all Hell was going to break loose.

_**Later**_

Isabella struck Meg hard; the blow was so strong the slip of a girl fell to the floor only to be roughly manhandled back to her feet by the sheriff's two burly guards.

"Leave her be!" Guy yelled franticly. "Isabella please!"

"I loved you!" the woman hissed furiously at Meg. "And you choose him over me!"

"Isabella let her go!"

"Be quiet!" the sheriff snarled, whirling around to face her brother. "Or I swear I will make you kill her with your bare hands! Don't forget that I know how much you love killing women, you foul ogre!"

Gisborne's frantic struggles stopped immediately.

He stared at his sister, mouth gaping in utter disbelief.

'_Not her,_' he begged silently. '_Isabella … not her_,'

"I can't love you, Isabella," Meg told the sheriff, voice trembling with fear and barely suppressed anger. "People can't choose who they love! It's inconceivable!"

Isabella looked from her brother to Meg, blue eyes cold as winter snow.

"_Mon Dieu_! You really are quite the pathetic creature, Meg!" she spat sourly. "There really is only one thing to do now. Go and join your lover! If you love birds want to be together, that's fine. You shall."

"Isabella-"

"You'll die together!" she snarled and with a whirl of her blue skirt, she left the dungeon, leaving the man and girl alone to comprehend their fates.

OoO

Meg stared through the bars, lips parted in shock, tears streaming down her cherubic cheeks.

What had she done?

Gisborne … He had been so surprised, so delighted when she came to save him.

There had been a look in his eyes she had never seen before. It was warm, tender, happy. Now the happiness, the delighted surprise … It was all gone.

What had she done?

Gisborne had retreated to his makeshift bed where he had taken the food and ale she had brought for him.

"Meg," he called to her.

The girl turned to face him, slender hand resting on her bloody mouth, long light brown tresses falling about her tear stained face like a waterfall.

"I'm sorry," she croaked. "I didn't think she would … I'm sorry."

"Come here."

She hesitated then picked up her skirt, stumbling over to where he was sitting.

"You're bleeding," Gisborne told her sagely, noting the blood bubbling from the side of her nose and bottom lip.

"She belted me right across the face, the sour faced bitch." Meg told him ruefully as she sat down.

The girl felt her face redden with shame.

"Sorry," she added in a small voice.

Guy, however, chuckled softly.

"A very apt description of my sister. Power does not suit her. It decreases her fairness considerably."

Meg dropped her head in her hands and began to cry.

"I'm sorry!" she wailed. "I couldn't let her kill you …. I didn't think."

She never heard him move, but in less then a moment she could feel his arm around her shoulders drawing her to him.

Meg sniffed, pressing her wet cheek against his chest.

"I forgive you," Gisborne murmured stroking her hair.

"Thank you," was her muffled response.

After a few moments of silence, Guy shifted, reaching for the tray of food.

"You need to eat," he told her.

"No … I'm not hungry," she replied but her stomach growled in aggressive protest thus causing Gisborne to smirk.

"For me," he urged, echoing her words of earlier but Meg was hesitant so he picked up a piece of cow tongue in order to make an attempt to coax her.

"Come on," he said, passing her the meat.

Giving in, Meg took the pressed flesh from him and bit into it, chewing slowly.

"Will you eat as well, please?" she asked when she had finished consuming the bovine's tongue. "There is so much food."

Not giving her a yes or no, the dark haired knight reached for the ale mug, passing it to her.

Raising the mug to her lips, Meg sipped timidly then gagged.

"That's disgusting!" she gasped, thrusting the tankard back into Guy's hands.

"It's very hard to get wine or mead down here. Besides, you brought it down to me."

"I never thought you'd make me drink it!" Meg coughed into her hand. "Arrgh!" she exclaimed. "Jesu! My lip sodding hurts like buggery!"

"Language," Guy reprimanded gently.

"I've heard you say worse," Meg quipped.

"Eat this," Guy said wearily, passing her another piece of cows tongue.

"Only if you eat as well," Meg insisted. "You're skin and bone, Guy."

Seeing no point in arguing with her, Gisborne picked up one of the slivers of tongue and plopped it into his mouth. It was divine. He had forgotten how good fresh food tasted.

OoO

The food was gone, now it was time for slumber.

Gisborne's cot was a small affair. There were only two blankets and they were thin and filled with holes.

Meg's bun was no more. Her brown hair had fallen free, cascading down her slender shoulders. Despite the ugly tangles, Gisborne still believed it was beautiful.

"Do you pray?" Meg asked, watching him prepare the cot.

Guy stopped what he was doing to consider her question.

"I used to," he told her after a moment of mental debate. "Why?"

Meg fiddled with a pretty ring on her finger.

"I always thought praying was … folly. I mean … Well … Nothing good ever really comes from it, does it?"

Guy shrugged.

"If people want to pray before they die. Then they pray before they die,"

"Do you think we should pray now?" she asked.

Guy shook his head.

"I think we should sleep," he told her with all simplicity.

He lay down on the cot, pressing his back against the moist stonewall then patted the space he had made for her.

Meg hesitated.

"I don't bite."

The corners of Meg's mouth curled into a smile.

"Curiously enough, you do look like a wolf," she commented then wandered over.

Instead of lying down straight away, she opted to sit on the edge of the cot, hands clasped in her lap.

"I remember when I first saw you," she told him. "You were yelling abuse at your men. I thought you were a right git for being such a bully." She smirked, adding rather wryly. "Father said if I wasn't careful he'd offer you my hand,"

"Did he just?" Guy asked with a smirk.

"Yes. Luckily for me you were betrothed the very next day to lady Marian and-"

Meg stopped in mid sentence; seeing the shame on Guy's face.

"_I destroyed her …. I destroyed everything."_

"_I know how much you love killing women you ogre!"_

"They said she became ill with a fever and her body was cremated to prevent further contamination," she whispered.

Guy ran his tongue over his lips.

"No," he said at last. "I killed her."

"Why?" Meg asked softly, determined to ignore the growing horror that seemed to stroke down her spine.

Gisborne looked at her in sheer and utter wonder.

No one had ever asked him why he had killed Marian. They had only voiced their assumptions.

Jealousy. Hatred. Madness

"I didn't want to," he whispered after a moment. "I wanted to kill the king. I decided if I killed the king Hood would no longer love her and in time she would come to me."

Meg rolled her eyes.

'_Robin Hood has never loved anyone but himself,_' she thought with scorn.

"She didn't move out of the way," he croaked. "She let me run her through."

Meg sighed heavily.

"I did not know Marian well," she said at last.

Gisborne scowled.

"What is that supposed to mean, pray tell me, Meg?" he growled snidely, the misery in his voice having faded away.

"Well, call it absolute folly, but since I did not know Marian well enough I would prefer to take you as I find you. I have had ample time-," Guy snorted rudely. "I said _I_ have had ample time to get to know you, Guy of Gisborne. I don't have another man tucked in some secret place pining for me and the king can bloody well stay in Acre and rot for all I care."

Guy's dour disposition turned to bamboozlement.

Meg lay down, facing him. She placed a small, slender hand upon his arm.

"I think I could say that Robin Hood and England blinded Marian against you," she whispered, fingers pinching lightly into the black silk covering his arm.

Guy's eyes widened in surprise.

"I also think it is fair to say that maybe it was Robin Hood and England who killed Marian, Guy," she added. "Not you."

His lips parted to call her a stupid girl but he couldn't.

She was right.

It all suddenly made sense.

Relief, such sweet relief, flowed into his tired carcass.

It wasn't his fault.

He could forgive himself now.

It wasn't his fault.

Guy drew Meg to him, shuddering whilst girl gently ran her fingers through his lank black mane.

OoO

Meg woke some time later. Her back faced Gisborne who was holding her to him. One of his arms was around her neck; the other tucked was securely around her waist, his cheek pressed against her own.

Meg shivered and took a deep breath.

"Guy," she murmured.

He seemed to be already awake.

"Yes?"

"I had a dream," she told him in a low voice.

There was silence.

"Guy?"

"Good or bad?"

Meg rolled over to him, her face all seriousness.

"I dreamt I came to a place of beauty, happiness. I met a woman."

"Your mother?"

"No. Mother is still alive. No, this …. I've seen this woman before but I cannot for the life of me remember where or her name. She was very beautiful, very kind. She told me everything was going to be all right. That I had nothing to worry about. I thanked her then I asked about you. She …"

Unable to continue, Meg dropped her head and began to cry.

"Tell me what she told you," Guy murmured stroking her hair.

"No it's too horrible!" the poor girl whimpered.

"Tell me," he repeated gently. "This obviously hampers you. Tell me."

Meg lifted her head to gaze tearfully at him.

"She told me she did not know," she revealed meekly then lost her composure and began to sob again.

"I don't want you to go to Hell," she moaned, tormented. "Why can't the devil have me instead?"

Gisborne said nothing. He merely hugged her to him.

"He'd never want you," he whispered eventually. "You're too sweet."

"I am not that sweet," she answered, her voice no longer strained from such heavy weeping but steady, almost aloof. "I am wicked."

He frowned his confusion.

"How so?"

Meg left the warm haven of his arms and strode over to the cell doorway.

"When I was eighteen, my mother gave birth to a little boy," she told him, staring through the bars. "He was as sweet as pie. We all loved him. One day he fell ill. The physician was being tardy and poor little Osborne was growing weaker and weaker by the hour. I hated what his illness was doing to mother so I took matters into my own hands."

"You took him to another physician?"

Meg shook her head slowly.

"I smothered him with a blanket till the breath left his body. To make sure I could not be implicated I set up a servant boy. He squealed like a frightened piglet all the way to the noose."

"I remember that day," Guy told her, sitting up. "Vasey gave a speech about children and family. I'd never seen him with so much false sincerity."

Meg turned to him, face half hidden by the darkness.

"Do you think me wicked, Guy?"

Gisborne paused deep in thought.

"I think you loved your mother very much," he said at last. "Sometimes we do drastic things to end the suffering of others. Isabella. I married her to Thornton because I believed that she was suffering. I'd rather her married to a complete stranger rather then have her beg in the street."

"When you first met Lord Thornton … Did he seem unctuous at the time?" Meg asked.

"No," Guy readily admitted. "He seemed likeable enough. I had no cause to believe that he would be abusive toward her."

"He is," Meg whispered, folding her arms across her chest. "Pitiless and voracious. And she fears him, Guy, she truly does."

She took her gaze away from him to look through the bars of their cell again.

Gisborne compressed his lips as the shame wrapt its arms around him.

All he had to say to Isabella was sorry. One little word.

Then this nightmare would all be over.

'_You are a pathetic man, Guy of Gisborne_,' he told himself bitterly. '_Truly pathetic_,'

With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet, walking over to where Meg stood.

When feeling him beside her, the girl turned to him, large blue eyes appealing for him to do the right thing.

He reached out, fingers lightly tracing her cheek.

"I will kill Thornton and make peace with Isabella on one condition," he told her firmly.

"And what might that be?" the maiden asked, golden eyebrow arched in profound suspicion.

"That you will promise yourself to me. That you will marry me."

The request took Meg's breath away and she found herself unable to say a word.

Guy quickly grasped her arms, making her jump.

"Promise me!" he hissed urgently. "Promise me you will be mine!"

Meg felt her mouth quickly grow dry. She swallowed hard, wetted her lips with her tongue, parted them and-

There was a metallic jingle jangle of keys. Gisborne muttered something under his breath then swiftly pulled Meg to his side, snaking an arm around her waist.

"Whatever happens, do exactly what I say, understand?" he whispered to her.

Meg nodded too scared to argue.

To Gisborne's disappointment, it was not his sister who stepped into their line of vision; it was a group of guards.

"The execution's been cancelled," one of the men informed gruffly. "Due to bad weather. We've been ordered to move you to the tower till further notice."

"The tower?" Meg asked questioningly.

"Milady wants you both at your healthiest on the day. Doesn't want to see sickly corpses," another guard explained.

Meg looked questioningly at Guy who nodded to the men.

"Please," he invited. "Lead the way,"

"You won't give us trouble?"

"I'm too weak," the male prisoner replied with a shrug. "And this piece of skirt is no match for you. We won't give you any trouble."

_**The Tower**_

After ascending several stone staircases, the prisoners' were shown into a surprisingly luxurious chamber.

In one corner was a large bed, in another, a table laden with food and wine.

"Don't bother trying to escape," the guard told the man and girl whilst unlocking the metal cuffs around their wrists. "There's a triple guard stationed around the entire castle. Even Robin Hood himself wouldn't be daft enough to break in. Milady isn't taking any chances."

"Would it be possible to have the sheriff visit us?" Guy asked, rubbing his wrist.

The guard shook his head.

"Too busy. You'll most likely see her on the day of your execution."

"And Thornton?"

"Indisposed."

Guy frowned and stopped rubbing.

"What do you mean by indisposed?" he asked stiffly.

"He be ill in the head," the guard explained, tapping the side of his helmet.

Still frowning, Guy nodded.

"We need to wash and dress. Is there an adjacent chamber we can use?" Meg asked.

"No milady. Baths will be brought to you both in here. There's a changing screen behind you. The servants will put the bath behind it for your privacy. The sheriff says she won't take any chances with either of you, but she does want you looking you're best come execution day."

The guard then paused, listening to the heavy down fall of the rain. "Dunno when that's going to happen though," he remarked, wrinkling his nose. 

_**End of part 1**_

_**Authors note**_

So are Meg and Guy headed for shaggy land?

Perhaps, perhaps not.

Will Guy do the right thing by killing Thornton and apologising to his sister?

Wait and see!

Many people ended up strongly disliking or hating the series 3 female characters of Robin Hood. I believe it is mainly because they felt very protective towards Gisborne or because they resented Robin snogging or being love with someone other then Marian. Personally, I don't really think there is a huge reason for all this bitchiness. Yes, Isabella helped kill her brother, and it was cowardly of her to stab him in the back, but her reasons in doing so are understandable, hence making it not wrong to show even a little compassion toward her even if you are, like me, a Gisborne fan.

As well as Kate of Locksley, I felt a lot of sympathy and empathy toward Isabella. I believe was a shame things turned out the way they did for her in the end.

In this story, instead of attacking her for what she does to Gisborne and Meg, I want to show compassion toward her and show how much she is suffering as well as show Guy and Meg's pain.

Anyway.

I hope I can do that in this fic and not make all of it one sided.


	2. Part 2

_**Meg & Guy part 2**_

_**By Leah**_

_**Summary**_

Guy and Meg are planning their escape.

Will everything go as planned or will they perish?

Warning, this chapter is Isabella sympathetic and contains the death of a main character. I will not say who carks it, that would be inconsiderate.

_**Disclaimer**_

I do not own Robin Hood. If I did own it, Guy, Marian, Allan and Meg would be known as the very kinky awesome foursome.

Rated M for slash thoughts and none slash content.

This chapter is dedicated to any Isabella and Meg fans out there.

_**The Tower**_

'_So. She's killing us with kindness,"_ Meg thought compressing her lips, sitting on the chaise lounge.

What was Guy's plan? How on earth were they to escape death now?

'_Don't badger him_,' the disgraced noblewoman thought biting a nail. '_He'll tell you when he's ready_,'

The girl jumped when she smelt the roasted swan Gisborne was holding directly under her nose.

"Where did you come from?" she demanded wonderously.

"Eat," he ordered, ignoring her question.

Meg wryly took the plate from him and picked up a sliver of meat, biting into it and chewing slowly.

It tasted absolutely divine.

The maiden closed her eyes in exaltation, running her red tongue across her lips, carefully avoiding her wound.

Guy, sitting beside her, was eating slowly as well. His tempestuous eyes, on occasion, darted here and there. It was obvious that he had not dropped his guard since entering the chamber and was preparing for any thing that came through the door, despite the fact that he was unarmed.

With curiosity getting the better of her, Meg decided it was time to discuss a new plan.

Setting her plate aside, she clasped her hands in her lap.

"Any good ideas?" she whispered.

Gisborne drained his goblet.

"With Thornton 'Indisposed' I have nothing to bargain with. I need to see Isabella. Therefore I need to figure out a way to make her come to us."

"And if she doesn't?" the maiden asked uneasily. "She's very angry, Guy."

The knight turned to face her.

"We may have to fight our way out," he told her seriously. "It will be highly dangerous and there is a chance we may be killed before we reach the west gate."

"If we do manage to escape what next?" Meg pressed, trying to disregard the knot of trepidation progressively growing in her abdomen.

"If your father refuses to give us protection we'll sail to France. Our prince's is too dangerous. Without anyone to speak for me he'll surely want my head."

Meg laughed nervously. "I can't speak French, Guy."

"I'll do the talking," he told her softly and reached out to caress her cheek.

Before his fingers could come into contact with her skin, the chamber door opened.

Guy swore under his breath and quickly withdrew his hand thus leaving Meg breathless.

"Baths for you and the lady," the guard announced gruffly.

Gisborne rose to his feet and stomped over to a window. He remained there whilst Meg bathed with the aid of servant girls, listening to the occasional splash and exclamations of pain when a servant pulled too hard on her hair.

The door opened with the arrival of another two servant girls carrying fresh water for his own bath.

"I need parchment and ink," Guy told the girls after they'd finished preparing the water. "The lady Meg must write to her family to beg for forgiveness."

"A priest can hear your confessions," one of the girls contributed coldly. She was a pretty thing with a slim waist, generous bosom and peach complexion, bright red spirals escaping her wimple. Her friend was pretty as well but of a darker colouring. Her body was thinner then her fellow servant and her hair that had managed to free it's self from her hair covering was a glossy dark brown.

"We care not for a priest," Gisborne answered smoothly. "Just parchment and ink."

The girl who had spoken scowled at him, hence making it plain that she did not approve.

Ignoring her, Gisborne sauntered casually to where Meg's servants had placed her earrings, necklace, and the oversized dress.

"These should be enough, yes?" he asked, pointing to the items.

Both girls eyed the bribes hungrily, but also warily. They were not stupid peasants. They knew they could get worse then a day in the stocks or a flogging if they accepted Gisborne's offerings.

"My mother is ill," the brown haired girl admitted at last, ignoring her companions perturbed glance. "And my father's also a good for nothing waste of space. Give me her jewels, milord, and God thank you for them."

Not without a great deal of hesitation, the other girl followed her companion's example, taking the gown and promising the disgraced knight to bring parchment, quills and ink before nightfall.

OoO

As soon as the servants had made their departure, Meg appeared from behind the changing screen. The girl wore a baby pink silk dress; the sleeves had been made out of chiffon, trialling along the ground as she moved, the outfit suiting her figure little better then the red velvet.

"Well that was satisfactory," she said briskly, plopping herself on a chair near the fireplace.

She began to comb her hair, wincing as she drove the comb through a tangle.

"Let me do that," Guy offered. "You are obviously in for a struggle."

"What about your bath?" Meg asked, arching an eyebrow. "Or have you developed a liking for being a pongey boy?"

Gisborne rolled his eyes.

"Very well, milady," he told her. "I'll leave you with your suffering."

"Tis but a tangle," Meg told him then winced again.

"Tis but a mass of tangles, you foolish girl!" he retorted. "I bet you a tray of sweet meats you haven't tamed that mane of yours before I return."

"I'll hold you to that wager, Sir Guy of Gisborne!" Meg shot back then swore furiously as the teeth of the comb became lodged in another stubborn knot.

OoO

Meg was uneasy. More uneasy then she cared to admit.

When Gisborne had almost touched her she had felt his cavernous longing and knew beyond all doubt that it was for her and for her only.

But … Dare she reciprocate this longing?

The maiden raised a hand to her forehead, continuing to ponder over the situation.

She had never met a man who could excite her.

The males shoved in her face, courtesy of her father, year after year, had been rather pathetic oafs. None of them had come close to pleasing her in the slightest.

When Guy had offered to comb her hair, something a little stronger then a frisson had shot down her spine. She had felt a mixture of fear, disgust, and worst of all, an eccentric sensation she could not bring herself to fathom.

It had not been wholly unpleasant, but it did make her feel uncomfortable nonetheless.

'_He wants to know me,'_ the maiden decided mentally. '_Even before I make up my mind whether to accept him as my husband or no, he still wants to ravish_ _me,'_

Would it really be so bad? To be known before marriage?

Well … It was quite likely that they were going to die tomorrow or the next day. Besides. Who would care if she were ruined? She was not a young girl any more. And if a man were to poke her it may as well be a handsome one with more then half a brain in his head.

After she'd finished the arduous task of combing her hair, Meg placed the comb onto a table, rose to her feet, then walked over to the food and wine table, helping herself to a goblet of wine.

She sipped the wine carefully, trying her best to ignore the stinging of her busted lip.

'_What a to do,'_ she thought wearily.

_**Sheriff's quarters**_

Isabella sat on her plush chaise lounge, thinking about Meg's betrayal. That cold-hearted whoreson bitch!

May she rot in the blackest pits of hell forever!

An image of the beautiful girl and her brother stark naked and rolling around in his dirty cell, kissing passionately and moaning with mad desire for each other, appeared quite suddenly before her eyes thus making Isabella scowl and put a hand to her forehead.

The sheriff groaned, willing the unwanted vision to go away.

"_You should have been mine_," she thought darkly. '_Serpentine Bitch!_'

Her slender body trembled with need as she allowed herself to imagine her own hands caressing Meg's valley of white skin, stroking the silky light brown mane.

The bliss that Meg had denied her was a bliss Isabella knew she could have shared with Robin Hood.

Robin.

The cruel insufferable dog! How dare he pick up her hopes and dreams then drop them like one would a worthless stone.

How dare he!

How dare he ...

A crystal tear slid down the broken hearted woman's cheek and she trembled again.

This time it was not from sexual desire.

It was from sheer misery.

When Isabella had first seen Meg, her broken heart had seemed to gradually knit itself back together and beat with an extraordinary excitement.

She had realised that if she could not have Robin there was a chance that she could have Meg.

But alas, it was not to be. Meg, like Robin, had denied her, and to plunge another dagger into her already aching heart and soul, seemed to crave the seductive darkness her loathsome brother offered.

The poor woman lowered her head, willing herself not to weep over her loss. Nevertheless, the question remained and wrapt around her mind like a thick, heavy cloak.

Why?

Why couldn't _she_ be loved?

_**The tower**_

Guy emerged from his bath an hour later, dripping all over, but content. He pulled on his braise, breeches, selecting a loose fitting dark grey woollen tunic before leaving the changing screen and padding over to the chair situated opposite to the one Meg occupied.

The maiden, in question, was concentrating on her embroidery, humming softly.

"I know that song," Guy murmured.

Startled, the girl drove the needle into her thumb and gave a little cry of pain. Before she could give him a lecture for causing her self-wounding, Gisborne left his seat, knelt before her, and took the bloody digit into his mouth.

In that particular moment, he stole Meg's breath away.

The feisty maiden could only stare at him, lost in awe, whilst he continued to gently suck.

"Oh," she whispered, eyes widening. "Oh ... my god."

Guy left her finger alone, gaze meeting hers.

Slowly, never losing eye contact, he rose to his feet then offered her his hand.

OoO

"Sweet fucking Jesu that hurts!" Meg roared from the top of her lungs.

Guy, had he not been lying on top of her stark naked, would have laughed.

Laughter however, was not to be had at the present.

He surged inside her again.

"Guy!" the young woman bellowed, finding no pleasure from the abrupt manoeuvre whatsoever, beating her small fists against his back.

Gisborne plunged into her one last time then, to Meg's sheer relief progressively began to slow down.

After the pain had receded, Meg found herself full of Gisborne and uncertain of what she was supposed to do.

So she asked him.

"Nothing," he panted against her neck. "Just wait."

He shifted his body, sliding out of her then back in, keeping the movements gentle and measured.

"Oh no … not again!" Meg moaned.

"Shh."

He repeated the action again.

Pressed against Gisborne's lean frame, Meg, at last, caught herself finally enjoying the gentleness her newfound lover offered after savagely taking her flower and felt compelled, eager even, to reciprocate.

"Thank you," she gasped. "Thank you."

The answer she received was a heavy groan.

Guy's movements began to change, gradually changing from slow stroking to strong, even thrusts.

Tossing her head back, the woman hugged her lover's body closer by wrapping her long, slender legs around his waist, attempting to match his rhythm.

OoO

All was still.

All was quiet.

Meg rested her head upon Guy's chest, listening to the soft thud of his heart whilst he absent mindly toyed with strands of her chestnut hair.

"We should probably get up soon," the young woman murmured, eyes half open.

"Mmm."

"A crown for your thoughts," she whispered, raising her head to look down at him.

"I am not thinking of anything," Guy answered lazily. "I am perfectly content."

"How? … I mean … We're going to die."

"We may not have to die," he contradicted gently. "I have every intention of getting us out of here alive."

"But if we don't … I need you to know that I am glad we were together like this."

"You do realise that you must accept me as your husband now?" Gisborne asked, his hand stroking up and down her bare back.

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" Meg scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Are you mocking me?" Gisborne asked, right hand slipping under the furs and woollen blankets.

"Why would I do such a thing?" Meg asked him, innocently batting her eyelashes.

Guy grasped her arse, squeezing hard, thus making the freshly deflowered maid yelp and buck.

"Doxy," he taunted, strong white teeth glistening in the meek yellow candle light. "That's what you are. A raffish, potty mouthed, doxy."

Meg rolled her eyes again.

"I'm washing and getting dressed," Meg growled, rubbing her sore bottom. "I'd suggest you'd do the same."

She grimaced as she hobbled to her washbasin.

"You broke me in hard," she accused crossly.

"My apologies. You seemed to enjoy it."

"Once the agony was over," Meg said wryly, preparing water to boil. "I certainly did."

OoO

There was nothing to do except sit and wait.

Gisborne had suggested several times that they should return to the bed and continue with what they had been doing before.

Meg had resisted.

She did not want to give Isabella another thing to be upset about. Should the female sheriff of the shire enter the chamber unexpectedly it would feel, to her, as if they had rubbed salt into an already stinging wound.

Gisborne, Meg decided, could play the heartless brute when it came to his sister, but she would not, could not, hate Isabella.

The sheer agony the woman had gone through with Thornton was too hard to ignore and Meg's own sour experiences with men prior to Guy had made it clear to her that Isabella needed trust and security more then ever and that the power the older woman seemed to crave was just a bandage covering the gaping wound.

Gisborne's apology was a small but significant leap towards his sister's recovery.

The trick was to make sure it was sincere enough.

'_Difficult when they're both stubborn as mules,' _Meg thought whilst raising her arm to scrub at her armpit.

Isabella had described Gisborne as a monster, a tyrant.

There had been some truth in that.

Meg knew who Guy was. She was not a fool.

Guy had been Vasey's right hand. He had been the killer of many.

Rich, poor. Young and old.

Yet still, Gisborne could grieve and he could feel shame and torment. when he had flicked off the maggots on her bread, Meg could not help but warm to him. When he had told her about the death of Marian, she could not help but want to sympathise.

'_I need to show that side of Gisborne to Isabella,'_ the woman concluded silently. _'And soon,'_

_OoO_

The door opened, the brown haired servant girl arrived.

"I am sorry for my tardiness," she whispered fervently to Guy, setting the basket of food and wine down onto the table. "Milady sheriff is in a right foul mood. The weather has not changed."

She quickly set about taking out cheese, fruits and other editable items out of the basket then peeled aside three layers of thick white under cloth, hence showing Guy the ink, quills, and parchment.

"One more thing," he told her, taking the items. "And you will be paid handsomely for this."

Uneasy, the servant wetted her lips with her pink tongue.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Another letter must accompany the one you send to Lady Meg's father," Guy whispered to her. "The guards will be looking for such a letter, they must not find it." He glanced briefly at Meg's shadow then back to her.

"I will give you Lady Meg's hair to sell if you take this message directly to the lord of Bennett Hall. If I can take over as sheriff, you will be given a better position and I will also provide your dowry."

"I will do as you say," the girl whispered after a moment of deep consideration. "Lady Meg's jewels and dress have already been traded in for coin by my sister and myself. Her hair will be a great bonus. But," she added firmly. "If I do help you I want one thing in return. Give your dowry to my sister; I'll not need it. What I want is simple."

"What is it that you want?"

The girl's plump lips compressed into a hard, thin line.

"I want my father to go to the dungeons," she told Gisborne coldly. "For making my mother's life a living Hell. I want him to rot." she paused, looking earnestly at the fallen knight. "Will you honour this, Sir Guy?"

"If I am allowed to take my sister's place as sheriff, I will hold a trial for him," he told her. "Is that satisfactory?"

The girl hesitated then nodded.

"Have her ladyship write the letter," she murmured. "I can't linger here."

"Of course. Meg, come out."

There was a irritated grumble from behind the changing screen.

Meg came into view, hair tousled, comb clutched tightly in her hand.

The servant girl could not help but notice red stubble burns on the maiden's neck. Knowing this was none of her business, she swiftly averted her gaze, opting to watch the door.

"Write to your father," Guy told his female companion. "Tell him that you are sorry for the wickedness you have committed and beg him to speak to the sheriff on your behalf. Tell him that you are prepared to give yourself to God and to prove it you have cut off your hair."

Meg's gorgeous blue eyes widened.

"Cut off my hair?" she exclaimed in a shriek. "But I like my hair just the way it is!"

Gisborne groaned and pinched his nose.

"Your hair is payment, Meg," he growled, annoyed with her vanity. "This girl is going to leave the castle with another letter in which I will plead our case to your father, asking him to speak to the prince on our behalf."

"But the prince hates you," Meg pointed out, confused.

"Not when he finds out that Isabella is, or was, married to Thornton," Guy told her with the slightest hint of pleasure in his baritone. "In addition. I know your father. He's a valuable man and holds the respect of both the prince and the king. When Prince John learns that your father favours me and wants me for your husband, he will do what ever it takes to stop my sister from killing us."

Meg scowled.

"The prince could kill Isabella," she said after a moment. "You know what he's like. I don't want her to suffer."

"Begging your pardon, milady," the servant girl addressed. "But the lady sheriff put you in here and now you want to save her … I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Guy muttered under his breath.

"Isabella suffered," Meg explained steadily, all the while giving her lover a peeved look. "The reason why she suffered is partially Guy's fault, the rest was Thornton's. I can't be angry with her because I could have ended up in a similar situation."

Though his feathers were quite ruffled by this summary, Gisborne said nothing in his defence.

Truth be told it angered him only slightly that Meg would believe that his little sister's pain and venomous behaviour was, to some extent, his doing, but he reminded himself that his wife to be had a clear mind, she had seen both sides of the picture and that her judgement could be trusted.

OoO

"The letter is finished," Meg told Gisborne.

"Good, all we need do now is send it, pass it here, Meg,"

The young woman handed the scroll to Gisborne who gave it, and his own letter, to the waiting servant girl.

"Make haste," he told her.

The girl nodded, hurriedly putting the message in her bodice.

After the door had shut behind the girl, Gisborne turned to Meg.

She was a sorry sight with short hair indeed.

His mind drifted to Marian, the unpleasant afternoon when she had lost her hair as punishment for giving aid to needy villagers.

He swallowed thickly.

He had felt the obstinacy and fury as if it were being rammed into his body by her very own hands.

Anger directed at him and Vasey for assuming that being rid of her infamous raven tresses was enough to force her to submit to their rule.

It had not been anywhere near enough. Marian's obdurate façade had withered only slightly then reinforced it's self in order to stand against them stronger then ever.

When he had cut Meg's hair, the young woman had wilted like a sun bereft flower, crying pitifully into her hands till the last lock had made it's unhappy descent into the servant girl's basket.

"How are you?" he asked, noting how his woman continued to run her pale fingers through the cropped and scruffy ruminants of her once lustrous locks.

"My neck is cold," Meg informed miserably, "All my jewellery and dresses are gone!" she sniffed, fiercely wiping her eyes. "I want this filthy nightmare to end!"

He sighed.

Women and their vanity.

"Not everything is gone," Gisborne told her frankly. "Your hair will grow back."

Meg rolled her eyes and snorted.

The tall man strode over to stand before her, hands on her small waist.

And," he paused, purposefully teasing her.

Meg drew back, holding his arms, a chestnut eyebrow arched in suspicion.

"And?" she echoed.

Guy reached into his tunic showing her the ring she gave him the night she visited him in the dungeons.

"Lady Marguerite," he said. "When this is over … will you take me as your husband?"

Her hands trembled.

"Will you be my wife?"

Meg felt her lips curl, on their own accord, into a smile.

"Yes," she promised almost breathlessly. "I will marry you. I will be your wife."

_**Bennett Hall**_

The lady Aiofe of Longbourne, mistress of Bennett Hall, sat by the fire place, staring sightlessly at a sleeve she was supposed to be mending.

It had been little over a week since they had received knowledge of their daughter's imprisonment. It had been three days since the delivery of the two messages, the two pleas for aid.

Marcus, her husband, had been tempted to let their only female offspring perish in the fires of Isabella's wrath.

Then he had read Sir Guy's message.

Wanting nothing more then to see the witch, who had taken their daughter into her care rather then take his side and punish her for her wilfulness, burn for her insult against him, Marcus decided to take Gisborne's side, making it known to Aiofe that Sir Guy had better be a firm no nonsense husband and took his counsel when it was offered.

Aiofe, knowing what this Gisborne was like, shivered.

she had a dreadful fancy Sir Guy would not allow her husband to give him counsel for long.

_**The castle, a chamber**_

"How are the preparations?" the sheriff asked, sweeping into the chamber in a flourish of dove grey silk and lighter grey velvet.

"Almost finished, milady," the seamstress told her. "I'd be needin to go to the tower for a fitting."

"Of course," Isabella agreed, admiring the delicate lavender and silver material that was to be used for Meg's execution gown, "but be sure to have ample protection with you, my brother is a dangerous man."

"Yes, milady."

Isabella gave the outfits one more admiring glance then nodded.

"Carry on. As soon as these two are dead, I'll be sure to cover you with gold."

The woman curtseyed.

"Th-thank you, milady," she stammered. "Thank you v-very much!"

_**The tower**_

"It's been five days!" Meg cried, frustrated beyond measure. "Nothing!"

"Give it a while," Gisborne said from his side of the chamber. "The rain has shown no signs of diminishing. The messenger could be held up."

'_Or my sister is playing with our heads,'_

"Guy, we can't wait here any longer!" Meg hissed. "We can't afford to be complacent. We've got to run!"

"Maybe not. It's better to wait."

Meg made an aggravated sound and stomped over to the bed.

Flouncing onto it, she crossed her arms and gave a loud huff.

"Behaving like a child won't get us out of here either," her betrothed reminded dryly.

"I don't care."

Guy rose smoothly to his feet.

Approaching the bed, he sat on the edge of it, studying his intended keenly.

"Well you should," he advised her.

Meg snorted and faced away from him.

"All I want to do is get out of here," she grouched.

"I want that too but it takes time."

"Since when have you been so patient?" the woman demanded hotly, glaring at him.

"Because impatience has led me to failure. To get out of here we need to wait."

"And what if Isabella can't wait."

Guy bowed his head, staring at his hands.

"We die," he murmured.

_**Outlaw camp**_

"God's bollock's, its soddin cold!" Allan A Dale exclaimed, yanking off his wet cloak.

"You were the one who fell into the puddle," Kate pointed out, squeezing water out of her soaked golden hair.

"And that makes you so perfect," the young man retorted, rolling his eyes.

Kate shrugged.

"I can jump puddles."

"Yeah, whatever. Where's Robin, John?"

"With Much."

Their leader arrived soon after looking every bit a drowned rat as Allan did, short light brown hair plastered to his head, breath coming out in big white puffs.

"Dry the wood … get a fire going," he panted to his former servant, relieving himself of his bow and quiver. "What's up at the castle?" he then asked Kate and Allan expectantly.

"Morwella told us that the horde's being kept in a chamber outside the kitchens. Isabella wears the key to the door around her neck," Allan told Robin, accepting a hunk of bread from John. "It leaves Wednesday morning rain or no rain."

"And the girl?"

"Still up in the tower with Gisborne."

Hood wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

"Poor girl."

He was about to ask more questions but was prevented from doing so when Tuck burst into the camp, heaving from sheer exhaustion.

"What is it?" Much cried, dropping his knife.

"Isabella," the godly man gasped. "She's going to execute Gisborne and the lady Meg! They were caught trying to escape through the under ground tunnel. I heard her announce that both Guy and Lady Marguerite will die in the great hall come Wednesday morning."

"That's three days from now," Robin said. "The same day the horde goes to Prince John."

_**Portsmouth**_

"Lady Agnes?" a spotty stable lad addressed.

"Yes boy, is my chamber ready?"

"Ais, milady," the youth replied, helping the grand woman out of the carriage.

"Good, good. Tell your cook I am to dine in my chamber. I am not to be disturbed. I am to be aroused at the crack of dawn, no later."

"Ais, milady."

_**Nottingham Castle, the tower**_

"Tomorrow," Meg murmured, staring at a wall.

Guy said nothing.

Meg dropped her head, staring at her hands.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," she whispered brokenly. "I was just so frightened."

Nothing.

"You believe me, don't you?" the woman asked ardently, her blue eyes wild and bulging with fear.

Nothing.

"Jesu! Guy, I swear I wouldn't have made you do such a thing if I had known it was hopeless!"

Still nothing.

Scared and frustrated, Meg sprang to her feet and rushed over, standing in front of her betrothed.

"For the love of-Guy! Please! Speak to me!" she shouted, smacking a hand against her hip. "I don't want to spend our last hours like this! Just … Just yell! Say something … Anything! I am so … so sorry,"

Hard as stone, Gisborne looked up at her.

"You think I am angry with you?" he asked stoically.

The woman nodded fervently, her stomach flipping and flopping like a jellyfish.

"I'm angry with myself," Guy revealed tiredly. "My head was not on my shoulders."

He laughed. It was a hard, dark, ugly sound.

"Ever since her death my head has not been on my shoulders … I have not been able to think a single clear thought."

Gisborne smirked bitterly.

"I think she is punishing me."

Meg knelt before her betrothed, covering his hands with her own.

"After my brother … the same thing happened to me," she whispered, empathically. "I felt as if nothing I did was right. That my world was shattered into pieces." She rested her cheek upon his hands, continuing slowly. "If we _are_ doomed to go to Hell I have a fancy that we'll be going together, Guy."

There was a long pause.

The disgraced knight slid his tongue over his lower lip.

"You killed your brother to ease his suffering. You killed him because you loved him. There is some peace to be found in that, Meg," he said rather sullenly.

"I destroyed a younger man's life so I could not be blamed."

"You knew what would happen if you gave yourself up. You did what you had to do. Had he been in your position he may have done the same."

He paused, listening to the battering rain and the ominous howl of the wind outside.

"Guy?"

"When I killed Marian," he went on, "she was at her most beautiful. She was fighting for what she wanted, not dying, not sickly. I had no reason to take her life from her." He paused. "You say we are going to Hell," he murmured. "Meg, it is I who am going there, not you."

_**Nottingham Castle chapel**_

"Amen," the sheriff whispered, crossing herself.

"Milady?"

"Yes Absalom?" she asked, turning to address Master at arms.

"Milady, I'm sorry for disrupting your evening prayers but I wanted to inform you that all is prepared for the morrow."

Isabella cringed inwardly.

She masked her discomfort with a pleased countenance.

"Very good," she praised the tall man. "Tell me. What of the girl you caught taking bribes from my brother and the lady Meg?"

"I thought you would like to see her executed alongside your brother and his woman, Milady."

"I do admire your intuitive," Isabella praised wryly. "Now go. I do not want to be disturbed again."

The man bowed.

"Of course."

As soon as the door closed behind Absalom, Isabella sunk to her knees and began to weep.

_**A carriage**_

"You up there! I insist you go faster! I must reach Nottingham Castle before nightfall."

"Milady, we'd be lucky if we reach the castle before the end of next week! The rain's wrecked the road … I can't push me horses any faster or they'll tumble and break a leg!"

Agnes muttered a curse under her breath and slumped into her seat.

This was most disconcerting.

_**Bennett Hall, the main chamber**_

Aiofe picked up her skirt and hurried toward the opening door way.

"Have you news?" she demanded of the weary man entering the chamber. "What of our daughter?"

"She will be executed on the morrow," her husband replied grimly.

Aiofe froze.

"H-how?" she stammered.

"A beheading."

So much swifter then a rope, yet Aiofe's face contorted with venomous fury.

"This is all your fault!" she spat.

Her husband stepped back, surprised.

"Aiofe!"

"Had you not forced suitor after suitor on her none of us would have been in this position! I told you to send her to the church for a year but no! You had to drive her into Isabella's path! You fool! Now I am losing my child! My only child to the reaper and it is all because of her father!"

Cupping a hand to her mouth, the woman fled the chamber, sobbing as she ran.

"But there is nothing I can do for them!" Marcus shouted after her fleeting figure. "It's hopeless! My message to the prince will not save them! It is too late!"

_**Nottingham Castle The great hall**_

"Bring out the prisoners!" Isabella called.

The blood-curdling roar of the crowd filled Meg with terror. Bound, she stumbled clumsily behind Gisborne and the servant girl as they were forcefully herded like cattle into the great hall.

"She's not going to hang us," Guy said to himself.

"What?" his companion hissed glaring at him, thinking her betrothed's senses had finally done a runner. Her blue eyes then grew wide when she realised what he was on about.

"Oh jesu!" Meg whimpered, stopping in her tracks. "I'm scared!"

Guy turned to address the woman, face grave.

"When it comes it will be very quick," he promised.

"Get goin ya bastard!" snarled one of their guards, kicking Gisborne in the back of his legs.

The former noble grunted heavily and dropped to his knees.

"Leave him be!" Meg shouted, struggling to free herself. "Leave him be!"

"Guard!" Isabella shouted from her seat. "I'd thank you to leave the prisoner intact. He'll be going to Hell before long; he'll suffer sufficiently when he gets there."

"Sorry, milady. Spur of the moment thing."

"Don't let it happen again."

Grimacing, Guy gingerly rose to his feet. As he righted himself, he looked at the guard who had kicked him.

"Allan A Dale," he whispered.

_**Flashback**_

Allan's blue/green eyes darted here and there, searching for a way to help Meg and Gisborne.

Whilst his orders were to rescue Meg only, he felt it would be easier to set both free, separate the girl from Guy, then run for the hills.

"The tower, they've got to be in the tower," he muttered at last.

"Guard!"

He turned to see Isabella, striking as ever, making her way toward him, stunning blue eyes gleaming with the promise of approaching vengeance.

"I want you to prepare the prisoners," she said briskly. "Come with me."

"Aye, milady," he said tersely and fell into step beside her.

_**End of flash back**_

Allan could do little to tell Gisborne that he was trying to rescue them.

He winked at the older man and girl then jerked his head toward the gallows.

"Come on, Get up!" he ordered gruffly, poking Gisborne in the ribs with his spear. "Can't keep the devil waiting!"

Guy snorted.

"Of course not," he growled under his breath.

The servant girl and Meg exchanged looks then followed Guy's lead once again.

OoO

"Have the condemned any final words?" Isabella inquired coldly.

Guy took a deep breath.

"Alright Isabella, you win," he said solemnly. "What I did to you was wrong. My only explanation to why I did it was … It was because I believed I was helping us both."

He swallowed; sweat developing in his palms and forehead.

"But it was nonetheless unjust and I am … I'm sorry, sister."

Silence.

Stunned silence.  
>His heart began to pound.<p>

"Kill me if you must, but not the girls, they're innocent."

More silence.

"Sister … Please. I beg you …"

Ashen, the female sheriff's lips parted.

"I …"

"Isabella!"

Guy swung around to see Thornton storming through the masses, nostrils flaring, heartless pleasure in his eyes.

"I'm going to tear your breasts off with my bare hands you whoreson bitch!" he roared brandishing his sword.

"No!" Isabella shouted.

Swiftly, she snatched up her skirt and fled for her life.

"Giz, stand still!" Allan hissed behind his back.

"Isabella!" Guy bellowed staring at his siblings fleeting form, struggling to free himself.

This was his chance. He would kill Thornton in front of his sister and demand she'd resign from her position and speak to the prince.

This was his chance!

"Hurry up! Thornton's getting away!" the former knight screamed, body taut and ready to spring.

"Just let me-there ya go!"

Whilst Allan was busy untying the servant girl, Meg was watching the chaos unfold before her eyes.

Guards were darting here and there, trying to fend off Thornton's men who were slowly waring them down. The townspeople were screaming and fleeing.

"Come on," Guy said suddenly at her side, untying her. "My sister owes you an apology."

He jumped off the platform, reaching for her.

"You don't have a weapon," Meg reminded as he lowered her to the ground.

"Stand behind me," Gisborne ordered briskly, "You do not let me out of your sight. Understand?"

Meg nodded fervently.

"Crystal clear," she replied curtly.

"Allan, get behind Meg!" Guy barked, "I need you to watch our backs!"

"Giz, leave im," their rescuer cried. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Not until I've killed the sodding bastard!"

A Nottingham guard came rushing toward them, his sword at the ready.

"Fucking Hell!" Allan exclaimed.

He drew his own sword from it's scabbard, killing the soldier within moments.

Picking up the fallen blade, he tossed it to Gisborne.

"Fine, but let me take Meg-Oh shit! Wait!"

Too late.

Guy and Meg were hurriedly making their way through the maddened crowed and up the stone stairway.

"Hell's Bell's!" Allan swore.

He turned to the servant girl.

"I-"

She shook her head.

"Gisborne owes me," she told him flat out. "Where he and Meg go, I'm goin with em!"

_**Castle corridor**_

"We can't stay here!" Allan shouted at Guy, wrenching his sword out of the belly of a guard. "If we can get our hands on horses we can lose em in the forest and-Trap door in the cloisters!" the servant girl and he then said in unison.

"Go!" Guy shouted.

OoO

Gisborne had no idea how long they had been running. All he knew was that Meg's small, sweat soaked hand was wrapt tightly around his own and escape was nigh.

Ironically, the trap door had been blocked, therefore they ended up returning to the original plan, raiding the stables.

"The prisoners! The prisoner's are escaping!"

"Fucking Hell," he heard Meg growl under her breath.

Out of the blue, a guard appeared running straight for them, a wickedly sharp spear clutched tightly in his hands.

Giving no thought of her own safety, Meg leapt in front of Guy.

She didn't have time to brace herself for the blow.

Sweet Jesu, it near knocked the wind out of her.

Shouting, Guy grabbed the woman before she could touch the floor, leaving Allan to fend off her attacker.

"It doesn't hurt," Meg mumbled feebly, hand on her stomach.

"Easy," Gisborne murmured, scooping her up in his arms. "Easy,"

"It-it really doesn't hurt …" she repeated. "Amazing."

Beneath her hand, hot crimson blood gently oozed from the wound, gradually seeping between her fingers.

_**Sherwood Forest**_

"We'll lose the horses here!" Allan called over his shoulder, pointing to a thicket.

OoO

Gisborne pulled his skittish blood bay gelding to a clumsy halt, dismounting with Meg in his arms.

"We'll just rest here for a while," he panted, smacking the animal's lathered, hot rump in order to shoo it away, carrying the woman over to a tree.

"There you go," he said, lowering her down, cradling her.

"Giz-" Allan protested.

"She's wounded," Guy snapped, glaring up at the outlaw. "I need to check the injury."

Allan raked a hand through his hair.

"I'll go and keep a look out for the others," he muttered at last.

"I'll come with you," the servant girl added.

OoO

Gisborne's blood went cold.

The wound to her stomach was deeper then he had originally thought.

"Kiss me," Meg whispered. "Please."

He reached out, gently stroking her short hair.

"Shhh," he soothed.

A fat tear streaked down the woman's white cheek.

"Please," she whimpered. "I know what's happening."

'_I'm going to Hell,'_

"Meg-"

"I know," she insisted feebly. "Just kiss me … please."

Gisborne sighed.

Lowering his head, he pressed his mouth tenderly against her own.

It was sweet.

It was perfect.

When he withdrew, she was smiling up at him.

"You know …" Meg gulped. "I would have liked being your wife, Guy of Gisborne."

Then her world went black.

_**Somewhere**_

Meg warmed her hands before a roaring fireplace.

"_Come out,"_ she called within her mind. _"I'm waiting."_

There was the faint sound of approaching footsteps.

As they drew nearer, Meg felt her skin prickle all over.

Who could it be she wondered?

The devil?

Most likely.  
>"Hello, Meg."<p>

The young woman turned slowly.

"Hello Marian," she answered.

_**End of part two**_

_**Authors note**_

What does Marian want? Has Isabella managed to escape from her husband? Will Guy still want to be sheriff? Will Lady Agnes, the mystery woman, ever reach Nottingham?

Next chapter. We see more of Meg and Marian's meeting. More of the mysterious lady Agnes and Isabella learns something very interesting …

_**Review replies**_

funnygirl00

Thank you for the lovely review. I'm sorry you cried during Meg's death scene. I would have liked to have seen her stick around for a lot longer but I did also enjoy the bitter sweetness of the scene. I love sad scenes. They really stretch the actors.

01cheers

Thanks for the review, I would have replied sooner but there was no way of contacting you.

The fact that Meg is not as … repentant about her brother's death is due to the fact that she has been repentant in the past but she has decided that she has helped him more then harmed. What happened, happened.

But she does have a fear of going to Hell for what she did to her brother and the servant boy. That will be further explored in her conversation with Marian.

Anyway, thank you for reviewing.

Till the next chappie Leah.


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